A Scarecrow's Obsession
by trickstersink
Summary: Scarecrow falls madly and unhealthily in love. Takes place after The Dark Knight. Joker will make an appearance in much later chapters. Rated T for now, will be M later. Be prepared for the good, the bad, and the creepy.
1. Downhill

**A ****Scarecrow's Obsession**

**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing. Not the Batman comics or movies. I don't own Scarecrow or Joker or Riddler. Nothing. I'm also earning absolutely nothing. My payment comes in the form of reviews-the opinions of others.

I suppose I do own my OC's. That's something, but not a whole hell of a lot in the big picture.

**Summary:** Dr. Jonathan Crane has targeted a new victim, but the night he's suppose to kidnap the victim, a young woman and her daughter get in the way. Jaclyn, though blissfully ignorant at the time, becomes an undeniable obsession to one of the craziest men in Gotham.

**A/N: **First of all, this story is based off a very twisted, disturbing dream I had. Most of my dreams are disturbing. Second, these chapters are going to be short and sweet. My goal is to not let them exceed 1000 words, but that might just be impossible. And Third, I'm currently having issues with my laptop, so don't expect scheduled updates. There's a process I have to go through with each chapter and it sometimes takes a while to complete.

_And here we go…_

Chapter 1: Downhill - Jackie

"I hate this fucking hill!" I snarled under my breath as I pushed myself to keep climbing. I shivered against the cold, wrapping my ridiculously thin shawl tighter around my shoulders. I gasped, wincing as the freezing night air constricted my aching lungs. My bare feet stung painfully, slowly going numb on the ice-cold concrete sidewalk.

I stopped to take a breather halfway up the steep hill, tears of frustration streaking down my numb cheeks. My whole body trembled violently as the winter breeze swept around me, enveloping my bare legs beneath my torn evening gown.

_Another date, another disaster._

Sam Holiday had seemed so promising when he'd asked me out for dinner two days ago. I'd actually found myself looking forward to the evening. But twenty minutes in, I'd unthinkingly mentioned Lavender. Sam had grown awkward and distant after I'd explained to him about my daughter. An argument had arisen and anger had ensued.

Throw in the clumsy waiter and the rogue puppy and we had a nice catastrophe on our hands. Naturally, my curse of endless bad luck had ensured I got the worst of it. And to top it all off, Mr. Holiday had disappeared, forcing me to take the subway across the city and walk the remaining three blocks in a torn evening gown and three-inch heels.

Okay, I'd taken the heels off a long time ago. I knew it would have been a burning hell if I hadn't.

I pushed away from the brick wall I'd slumped against, setting off once again up the hill. Twenty minutes later, I was exiting the apartment building standing at the top of the retched hill, slowly backtracking to the apartment building at the bottom. This time I had my three-year-old daughter perched on my hip.

Annie, the old woman who was always kind enough to baby-sit Lavender when I needed her to, had given me an old pair of thick, woolen socks to warm my feet and calves on my short trip home. She'd gone wild when she'd seen me and had tried giving me clothes and shoes. I'd accepted the old pair of socks, claiming I needed no more.

"Mommy, how was the date?" the sleepy girl mumbled into my shoulder.

_Sigh._ "It was fine, sweetie. Go on ahead and sleep."

She mumbled something into my shoulder, but I couldn't understand it. A second later, she was asleep.

Now that I had Lavender in my arms, my senses were heightened. In Gotham, you always have to be on full alert, especially at night. After becoming a mother, my senses seemed to triple. The mother in me instinctively protected her child.

With Lavender win my arms, I became aware that the seemingly empty street wasn't actually empty. I could feel it in the air, almost taste it. There was something in the shadows, watching me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I climbed the steps to my apartment building, shifting Lavender in my arms to unlock the door with the key I'd fished out of my purse back at Annie's.

I glanced both ways before I opened the door, taking in the empty street. No one.

That night, I triple checked my windows and door to make sure they were locked. I even had Lavender sleep in my bed, tucked safely under the covers by my side. I didn't get much sleep.

**A/N: This first chapter kind of sucks, in my opinion. I'm not very happy with it, but it was needed. The next chapter will be all about Scarecrow! Yay!**


	2. Observation

**A ****Scarecrow's Obsession**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. I will never own. I'm merely a young, enthusiastic writer who greatly and thoroughly enjoys twisting the stories other people own. I had nothing to do with the creation of the comics, movies, or the amazing characters (apart from the few I created especially for this work of fan fiction).

How's that for a disclaimer?

Chapter 2: Observation - Scarecrow

Scarecrow was bored. Dr. Crane was annoyed.

**Come on, Johnny-boy, when is the fun going to start?**

_Patience, _Crane mentally hissed at the voice in his head, his other half. _I'm working on it._

Dr. Crane was a patient man. He never rushed anything. That being said, he couldn't help feeling slightly annoyed as time ticked by. The target, a man named Samuel Holiday that very few people liked, was meant to pull around the corner at the bottom of the hill in his shiny, new Mercedes Benz and park outside the first apartment building at around midnight to drop off his date.

Crane checked his watch for the tenth or eleventh time in the past hour. It was five minutes before two o'clock.

_Jesus Christ, where the hell is he?_

**Patience, Johnny. **Scarecrow mocked.

Crane growled under his breath, grinding his teeth together.

"I hate this fucking hill!"

Crane mentally jumped to attention as the snarl carried across the street and through his partially open window. A woman-mid-twenties, tall, thin, with dark brown or black hair-had just rounded the corner he'd been watching for the last three and a half hours and was slowly climbing the hill. She had no coat, only a thin white shawl and she wore a long, dark blue evening gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. The gown was also torn. There was a long, revealing slash running up her right leg, from her ankle to just below her hip. There were a few more slashes across her midriff, thin and parallel…as if left by some kind of animal.

Ridiculously high heels dangled from her trembling fingers, which were tugging the shawl tighter around her shoulders. She limped slightly, her bare feet obviously in bad condition and effecting her walk.

_This woman must be insane. Doesn't she know it's nearly winter?_ Crane watched her, fascinated and shocked, as she stopped halfway up the hill, turning to fall back against the brick wall to rest.

**Shut up and enjoy the show, Crane!** Scarecrow ordered, amusement laced in his mental voice.

"Show?" Crane verbally questioned.

Scarecrow paused for effect. **She's beautiful.** he finally exclaimed in a whisper Crane had never heard him use before.

Crane refocused his attention on the girl, who was now pushing away from the wall and continuing up the hill.

Her skin was pale, but not unhealthily so. The only color shown on her cold cheeks and nose. Her face was thin and long, her lips full and pouting…and enticing. Even from this distance, Crane could tell. Her dark hair was falling down from the bun that rested on the crown of her head. Loose strands framed her face, accentuating her pale skin and high, sharp cheekbones.

Even with her thin shoulders hunched against the cold and the beautiful gown ruined, she was a vision. A vision that sent heat to places in Crane's body that haven't felt such heat in a very long time.

For the first time in a long time, Crane and Scarecrow completely agreed on something. This woman was utterly _beautiful._

**I want her!**

Crane ignored the comment, reaching beneath the driver's seat for his camera. He turned it on and made sure it was on the right setting, flash off. Then he raised it and started clicking away.

When she disappeared inside the apartment building at the top of the steep hill, he finally lowered the camera, letting out a shaky breath. His heart was racing in his chest and he had the urge-a strong, powerful urge-to follow her.

**Do it! Follow her! Better yet, give me control!**

_Shut up! _Crane hissed. _We can't just follow her. We don't know who else is in there!_

Scarecrow growled in frustration, but did not reply.

Crane watched the door the beautiful woman had disappeared behind, lost in his thoughts. For once, he and Scarecrow wanted the same exact thing in the same exact way. This discovery was slightly frightening.

A gunshot far off in the night brought him back to attention and he suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place.

**Forget about **_**him**_**. He's nothing.**

_We were hired to capture him. _Crane tried to reason with Scarecrow and himself. _We need him to test the new toxin on._

For a moment, they both thought the same thing. They both considered replacing Sam Holiday with the girl and using the fear toxin on her. The idea only lasted a moment. Mentally-not that there was any other way-they agreed that this girl, whoever she was, would never suffer the enhanced fears the toxin induced. No harm would come to her at his hand.

Chaotic thoughts and fantasies involving the mystery woman swam through his head, distracting him from the time. So he jerked in surprise when the woman reappeared on the sidewalk, this time with a small child in a large, puffy purple coat perched on her slim hip.

From where he sat in his car across the street, he could hear the little girl mumble something, but he couldn't make out the words.

The woman, sighed heavily, a sad smile on her face. "It was fine, sweetie. Go on ahead and sleep."

Crane hated the pain that was evident in her voice. The physical and emotional pain so clear on her face and in her walk struck him hard, causing a burning pain of his own to clench tightly in his chest. It was a very unfamiliar pain. He didn't think much on it.

By the time she reached the steps of the building at the bottom of the hill, Crane had taken twenty more photos of her. He knew they wouldn't be of the best quality because of his shaking hands. The reason for his trembling was beyond him, though Scarecrow had several theories.

**You want her. Just as badly as I do.** The voice in Crane's head chuckled knowingly. **And in more ways than one.**

The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk, but he otherwise did not react to Scarecrow's accusation, which was absolutely true. As the woman, and whom he assumed to be her daughter, disappeared into the building, Crane wondered who the woman was.

**Don't know, don't care. I want her!**

Crane's eyebrow arched in surprise at the amount of desperation behind the words. It was so unlike him to use that tone when he wasn't yearning to torture and kill. Crane let it go, though, a new thought entering his head.

He reached over and grabbed the file that sat on the passenger seat, flipping it open to read the brief on Samuel Holiday. He quickly skimmed through it, reading the report on where he was suppose to be tonight and who with. The sentence he was looking for jumped out at him.

He'll be dropping off his date, Jaclyn Knight, at her apartment complex between 11 pm and 12 am.

The report went on to give the exact location of her apartment building and a description of Holiday's car. And then, almost as an afterthought at the bottom of the page, there was a brief description of Jaclyn Knight.

Est. Height: 5'6". Shoulder -length brown hair, brown eyes. Est. Age: 24-26. Recognizable Markings: 4" scar on the neck, easy to spot.

Crane smiled, knowing it was the same woman.

_Jaclyn Knight._

He tossed the file aside, turned off his camera, and started the car.

**What now, Johnny-boy?**

With a smirk, he muttered, "We plan."

**A/N: So this is way over 1000 words, but it was necessary. Well, I probably could have shortened it, but oh well.**


	3. Spooked

**A ****Scarecrow's Obsession**

**Disclaimer: **The Moment of Truth: I don't own a freaking thing. This franchise does not and will never belong to me. I am an insignificant writer living in an unheard of corner of the world. I only own my OC's, which all alone are pretty meaningless and useless. But…it's something, at least.

**A/N: READ THIS! **Originally, I had this story take place after Batman Begins and sometime before The Dark Knight, but I've changed my mind. I came up with a really brilliant idea concerning the Joker (it won't take place for a very long time) and Harley Quinn. So this story now takes place AFTER The Dark Knight. I had to make a lot of changes to this chapter because it originally starred Harvey Dent, but he's…well yeah…Anyway…

_On with the approaching chaos!_

Chapter 3: Spooked - Jackie

Jackie's POV

_Three days later…_

"BOO!" A booming voice shouted directly behind me.

My whole body jerked upwards in fright, my right knee banging against the edge of my desk, my head smashing against the desk lamp.

"Shit!" I cried in pain.

"Jesus, Jackie, I'm so sorry." Strong hands gripped my shoulders, turning me in my swivel chair.

I glared up at the man before me. "What the hell, Rob?"

Robert Marks, my boss and the new District Attorney of Gotham, stared down at me dejectedly. "I'm sorry, Jaclyn, I was just trying to jump you a bit."

I rolled my eyes, rubbing the back of my head and my throbbing kneecap soothingly. "Well, you succeeded." I growled.

He grinned toothily at me, earning an angry sneer from me, along with an icy hiss, "Grow up, Robert!"

He just laughed and lightly punched my shoulder. "My bad. So what are you doing in so early? Again?"

I stiffened, quickly swiveling back around to straighten the papers on my desk. "Oh, just…you know. Getting caught up, organizing, and making sure Gotham sees enough of their new White Knight." I smirked over my shoulder at him. "That reminds me, you have to be at Wayne Enterprises at noon for the press conference. And don't forget your lunch date with your wife at the Plaza. No cancelling this time."

"Right, right." Robert muttered, glancing at his watch. He blinked in surprise. "Jackie, it's only eight o'clock. Why don't you give me an hour before pestering me?"

I snorted, reading through a list of messaged that had been left on my desk. "My job is to pester, Mr. Marks. That's why you hired me."

"But so early in the morning?" he whined.

I swiveled back around to grin at him. "_You_ are Gotham's new White Knight, Robert. It's my job to make sure you shine."

He rolled his eyes and turned toward his office, less than ten feet away from my cubicle. "Oh, now stop it, Jaclyn. You're going to make me blush."

Just then the phone on my desk rang. I checked the number and grinned mischievously, snatching the receiver off the cradle. In my best professional tone, I answered. "Home of the White Knight, Royal Scribe speaking."

A deep chuckled greeted me on the other end. "Jackie, what are you doing in the office so early?"

I frowned at the question, forcing myself to remain calm. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you know me. Workaholic." It was a horrible lie and I knew he's see right through it.

He snorted in disbelief. "I do know you, Jaclyn, and I know that you'd much rather be home right now, sipping tea and watching cartoons with Lavender."

The smile returned to my face, a longing to be home tugging at my heart. He was absolutely right, but…

"Fine, fine. Lavender spent the night at a friend's house last night." I half lied. Lavender and I both had stayed over at Annie's. Lavender was still there, under the protective care of the old, but strong-as-steel woman.

"Ah, I see. Bored without her?" he asked knowingly.

"So much so that I decided to come into work two hours early." I returned, the small web of half lies growing.

_Not bored. More like scared out of my mind._

Before the nerves could fully settle in again, I asked, "So what's up, Bruce? Need to speak to Sir Marks?"

"I'm just calling to remind him about the press conference."

"I just reminded him." I paused. "Okay, I'll remind him every ten minutes or he'll just forget."

"He's an interesting man." Bruce mused. "He's got character."

"He's a freaking child!" I exclaimed.

"Talking about me again?" Robert asked as he stepped out of his office, open file in hand.

"Actually, yes, Rob." I answered simply.

He gasped dramatically, slamming his free hand over his heart. "I'm wounded!"

I reached up and rubbed the back of my head pointedly. "So am I." He just smirked, so I said, "Bruce Wayne is calling to remind you about the press conference at noon."

"Again?" Rob grumbled before turning back into his office, muttering under his breath about lack of faith.

"Someone has to remind you!" I called after him. When his door slammed shut, I returned my attention to the phone still pressed to my ear. "Bruce?"

"I'm still here." the billionaire assured.

"Well hang the fuck up, I'm trying to work."

I heard his shout of laughter before I ended the call, a bright smile gracing my face.

The truth was, however, I didn't have much to do. And the lack of work left me alone with my thoughts.

The panic slowly started seeping back into my body, clenching around my heart, and my mind returned to my biggest problem.

_I'm being stalked._

I'd been coming into work earlier and earlier every morning for the last three days. The nerves that had formed the night of the disaster date had tripled and were still growing. Up until yesterday evening, I'd had nothing but a "feeling" to base my assumptions on, but after _seeing_ the shadowy figure ducking out of sight across the street from my building as unlocked the front door gave a bit more evidence.

The walk to the subway station this morning was what had my nerves twisting and burning now. I'd seen the figure again, twice. And it seemed almost…

_Deliberate._

I shuddered. It was as if my stalker, whoever he was, wanted me to know he was there. Always there, always following. Always watching.

I jumped when the phone rang again. I sighed with relief and snatched the phone off the hook, pushing my worries aside as I immersed myself in work.

**A/N: Sorry for any errors. I have a tendency to overlook small things, no matter how many times I edit. I don't yet have a beta reader, so my apologies for anything that doesn't look right.**


	4. Frustration

**A ****Scarecrow's Obsession**

**Disclaimer: **I DISCLAIM EVERYTHING! I OWN NOTHING! ***sobs***

_Here we go…_

Chapter 4: Frustration - Scarecrow

Crane propped his elbows on his desk, leaning forward and clenching his fists in his hair. He tugged hard, growling in frustration.

**Problems, Crane?** Scarecrow asked sarcastically.

"I'm tired." Crane grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face.

**Then…sleep?**

"Can't!" Crane snapped, jerking his head up again. He slumped back into his chair, exhausted.

**Come on, Johnny, tell Scarecrow what's wrong.** The mental voice was sickly sweet, making Crane growl angrily.

"I've yet to test the new toxin, I can't stop thinking about Jaclyn, Batman raided the hideout, Gordon's on my tail, and on top of it all, Jaclyn knows I'm following her."

**I thought you wanted her to know?**

"I did. I _do._" Crane sighed heavily. "It just isn't enough. _I want her now!_" he nearly screamed, tugging at his hair again.

**I can fix that for you.**

Crane froze, his hands dropping to the desktop. "How?" he demanded.

**Let me take control. I'll grab her tonight and bring her back here. You have her room all ready, right?**

Crane rolled his eyes angrily. "Sure. If I give you control, you'll probably kill her."

The short, tense silence that followed made it very clear to Crane how that comment had enraged the beast inside of him.

**You **_**know**_** I wouldn't.** Scarecrow hissed, venom dripping off his words. **I want her just as much as you.**

Crane sighed in defeat. "I know, I know. That was out of line. My apologies."

Scarecrow said nothing after that.

Crane sat in silence, thinking. Jaclyn knew he was watching her, but it wasn't enough. She still didn't know enough. Crane needed her to know more.

Sudden inspiration hit. "Not tonight." he said as he reached down and pulled open a desk drawer, grabbing the manila envelope that held the many photos of his growing obsession. "I have another idea."

The next hour was spent flipping through photos, searching for the perfect ones to get his point across.

**A/N: I decided that since this chapter is incredibly short (it's barely even a chapter!), I'd post it with the third one. Yay! Oh and just so you know, I already have 11 chapters written. This is the longest story I've ever written and I haven't even gotten to the really good stuff yet!**

**A/N 2: Thanks for the reviews! Review more! They make my world go 'round!**


	5. Photos

**A ****Scarecrow's Obsession**

**Disclaimer: **I own not this wonderful franchise and I assure you, I never shall.

_And on we go…_

Chapter 5: Photos - Jackie

Jackie's POV

I dreaded going home, yet looked forward to seeing Lavender. My life revolved around her and it always would, I knew. From the moment I was told that I would be giving birth to a girl, she became my reason for living.

That revelation, however, didn't come a moment before the doctor made the announcement. For that, I still feel guilty.

I clutched my hand around the can of pepper spray in my purse as I stepped out of the busy subway station. I began my journey home in the freezing cold, my senses on full alert. I kept up a fast and steady pace, eager to get home, grab a change of clothes, and head over to Annie's. Annie was the only person I'd confided in about my…situation, so she offered to let me stay at her place for awhile.

Halfway to the apartment, I began reviewing the days events. The press conference had been disastrously successful, if that made sense. Nothing had gone as planned and yet, it had all worked out. I hated having to thank Bruce Wayne for saving us all from the angry mob of reporters demanding information on the recent string of murders allegedly caused by the infamous Scarecrow. Let's not forget the possible involvement of the mob. It had been expected, the questions about the murders, though the point of the press conference had been to inform the public of the threat on Wayne Tower.

_The heart of Gotham will crumble._

The obvious threat had come in the form of a white banner with red writing, found strung up in front of the entrance to Wayne Enterprises. And it did exactly as it intended to do: caused panic.

That had happened four days ago. The press conference had been postponed due to the conferences being held to discuss the return of the Scarecrow.

I had to hand it to Bruce, he was smooth. Robert had handled the situation quite well, but had grown slightly angry after a rude comment about his wife had been made. That's when Bruce had stepped in and calmly reminded them all why they were there.

_Smooth-talking bastard._ I thought with a grin.

Ten minutes later, I was exhausted and panting slightly from the long walk home. Climbing the six flights of stairs to my apartment had been absolute torture. As I fumbled with the locks, I pulled off my black pumps to free my aching feet. I threw open the door, grumbling about wearing my sketchers from now on, and reached out for the light switch on the wall as I stepped inside.

The second the lights flickered on, my right foot slide out from beneath me and I went crashing to the floor. I groaned in pain, lying on my back half inside of my apartment. Slowly and stiffly, I pushed myself up, rolling onto my knees. Letting out a string of curses, I climbed painfully to my feet, rubbing my now sore bottom.

I slammed the door shut angrily as I looked down to see what I'd slipped on. A manila envelope lay several feet from the door. My full name was scrawled across the front.

I bent to pick it up, my back protesting as I did, and made my way into the kitchen. I tossed my shoes into a corner and dropped my purse on the small island in the center of my tiny kitchen. As I reached up into a cupboard for a glass that I intended to fill to the rim with ice water, I ripped open the envelope.

I filled my glass with ice from my freezer, reaching into the envelope for its contents with my free hand. I yanked out several pieces of thick, glossy paper as I filled my glass with water and took the first sip.

Then I froze. The glass slipped from my fingers, glass and ice cracking loudly as it landed in the sink. Both my hands gripped the stack of what I now knew to be photos. Photos of me.

The first was of the night of the disaster date. I was climbing the hill to Annie's with bare feet, blue gown and white shawl. My heels dangled from my fingers in front of me, my shoulders were hunched against the bitter cold, and my skin was so very pale with red blotches on my cheeks and nose. I looked utterly…broken. So thin and tattered. The pain was clear on my face.

The second photo hit me even harder. I was headed in the opposite direction, this time with thick, ugly socks on my feet and Lavender in my arms. The pain was still evident on my face, but it was less obvious.

The third showed me in my work clothes, standing in front of the subway, all alone with my back to the camera. It made me shudder to know that it had been just me and _him_ on the platform. How had I not noticed?

The fourth showed me sitting on the subway, head leaned back and eyes closed. I was wearing the same work clothes as in the previous photo so I knew it was the same day. The photo was taken from a distance, but not a great distance. Not great at all.

And the fifth photo…had me choking on air. I was looking directly at the camera. The camera had zoomed in on my face. My eyes were narrowed and full of fear. My lips were parted slightly, as if in surprise. I knew that was the day I'd first spotted the shadowy figure.

And scrawled across the bottom of the photo were the words, _You are so beautiful._

I lunged for my phone.

**A/N: Well? What do you think? You will all find out more about Lavender in later chapters. The whole situation with her is a little complicated, but it will all be revealed…later.**

**If I get a few reviews, MAYBE I will post the next chapter. MAYBE. So…Review! Also, I'm going to change the rating from M to T because I think it's more appropriate right now. I might have to change it back to M in the future, but for now, nothing too graphic is happening.**


	6. Panic

**A ****Scarecrow's Obsession**

**Disclaimer: **I. DO. NOT. OWN. ANYTHING. Other than my OC's, of course, but seriously, what are they worth on their own? Take away the brilliancy of the world of Batman and what do I own?

This is so depressing.

_Here we go again…_

Chapter 6: Panic - Jackie

Jackie's POV

I set his cup of coffee on the low table in front of him as he studied the photographs.

"I'm really sorry about all this, Jim." I apologized for the tenth time since he'd arrived. "I know it's late, but I didn't know who else to call. I just needed…I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jackie." Gordon responded in earnest, waving off the apology. "I'm glad you called me. Don't ever apologize for calling, especially when you need help."

I sighed, lowering myself into the chair across from him none too gracefully. I leaned my head back, staring up at the dirty ceiling, trying not to get lost in my thoughts.

Jim set the photos down on the table and lifted the coffee mug, taking a slow, appreciative sip. He licked his lips and leaned back into the couch.

"So start from the beginning, the night of the first photos. You said you had a…_feeling_?"

I nodded. "On the way up to Annie's, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. My feet hurt, my back hurt, and I was cold. I was distracted. I didn't linger at Annie's. Lavender was tired and I just wanted to get home."

"And with Lavender, you noticed something unusual?"

I frowned, thinking back. "No, not really. I _felt_ something. I was much more alert. The next morning, I tried to convince myself that I was just being a paranoid mother."

Jim nodded once, staring into his coffee. "What exactly did you feel, Jackie?"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I felt…itchy. I felt like I was being watched."

Jim took a deep breath and leaned forward, setting his cup down. "And it was all a feeling until…?"

"Yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?"

"I saw him outside my building as I was unlocking the door. He was hiding in an alley across the street." I shuddered, clenching my eyes closed for a moment. "It definitely didn't help my paranoia."

"And this morning?"

"I glimpsed him twice on my way to work."

"I'm guessing the answer is no, but I have to ask anyway. Did you get a good look at him?" Jim now had a small pad of paper in his hand, his pen posed over it.

"No. I only caught glimpses. But…" I trailed off, cringing inwardly.

"What?" Gordon asked patiently.

"I don't know. It just seemed so…" I struggled to find the right word, eventually deciding on the one I'd used this morning at the office. "Deliberate." Before Gordon could ask, I explained, "He was so careful for two days, never allowing me to glimpse him. Then all of the sudden, I'm seeing him out of the corner of my eye. More than once." I shrugged and gulped. "It just seems like he wants to be seen. It's like he wants me to know he's there."

Gordon glanced down at the photos, worry evident in his features. "He certainly does." He was silent for a minute, lost in his thoughts. Then he returned to business. "What can you tell me about him? Height? Hair color? Anything helps."

I closed my eyes again, trying to remember the few glimpses I'd had of the stranger. "He's tall and thin. Lanky seems like really good word to describe him. And his hair is dark. I'm not sure what color."

Jim scribbled down everything I said, a frown on his face.. A few minutes passed as he made a few more notes, looking over the photos several times. Finally, he stopped writing and lifted the last photo, the one with the writing. His frown deepened and the worry on his face intensified.

"Jackie, do you have any friends you could stay with for awhile? I think it would be best for you and Lavender to get out of the apartment, away from here. Just temporarily."

My heart thumped hard in my chest. "There's, um, Annie. I'm kind of staying there right now. She wouldn't mind-"

Jim interrupted with a shake of his head. "I'd prefer it if you got off this street. Do you have any other friends in the city?"

I groaned, one name jumping to the front of my mind immediately. "Yeah…"

"Good. Give them a call."

I stood up, grabbing my own cup of coffee and turning into the kitchen. I set my cup in the sink alongside the broken glass, and grabbed my purse off the counter. I fished out my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts, finding the right name at the very bottom and clicking the green call button.

It rang twice.

"Hello?" answered a deep, familiar voice.

I sighed inwardly, swallowing my pride. "Hey, Bruce. Listen, I need a huge favor."

**A/N: At the moment, I have absolutely NO intention of making this a Bruce Wayne/OC fic. They are just friends, that's all.**

**I hope there aren't a lot of mistakes in this. Sorry if there are.**


	7. Rewriting!

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Major editing in process. I'm rewriting the whole story, but keeping several chapters up because I don't want to take the whole thing down and lose any of my readers, if there are any left who even remember this story. I'm changing a lot.**

**Please be patient with me. I've rediscovered my writing muse and I'm working on two stories at once, so updating will be slow.**

**Thanks,**

**trickstersink**


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